Incarcerated Friendship
by Ardelle
Summary: During the first major battle with the Gammau, the Archangel deploys its only mobile suit piloted by Kira Yamato. But when the coordinator Athrun Zala captures the Strike, he is forced to board the ship, and becomes a prisoner. [Rating will go up! AsuKira
1. Prologue: The Capture

**Incarcerated Friendship- Prologue**

**Summary-** During the first major battle with the Gammau, the Archangel deploys its only mobile suit piloted by Kira Yamato. But when the coordinator pilot Athrun Zala captures the Gundam with his Aegis, he is forced to board the ZAFT ship, and becomes a prisoner. With out any back up and an old friend who is still plagued with betrayal, Kira's fate appears grim.

It takes place beginning after Episode Five, where Mu La Flaga actually give the orders that saves Kira and his Gundam, but in this story, help never came.

**Disclaimer-** I don't own Gundam SEED. I'm poor and untalented.

**Author's Note-** This is the first fan fiction I've ever written, so I am opened to pointers. This story was inspired by a role play I have been continuing for a bit, so some of the paragraphs from Athrun's point of view are copyright Kao. Enjoy!

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Jarred by a sudden jolt, Kira had assumed he had been hit by laser fire, but the distict sound of groaning metal made him turn about madly in his cockpit, assessing the situation with confusion and awe. It was then he saw the bright red arm extending across Strike's chest and back.

"Athrun! What do you think you are doing?"

He had been struggling with the controls, uselessly pressing random buttons and switches in an attempt to find an extra power source helplessly. But after countless hours of reprogramming the hard drive of his Strike Gundam, the violet eyed pilot knew better than anyone that there was no extra battery, no spare fuel source for his machine. The helpless mechanism was clutched between the arms of the Aegis, powerless in the situation.

"I'm taking you to the Gammau."

"What?! I'm not setting foot on a ZAFT ship!" Kira protested, an outraged edge in his voice.

"You are a coordinator Kira, you're our friend! You belong with us!"

"No! I won't join ZAFT!"

"That's enough Kira! You will come…other wise….other wise I'll have to shoot you."

It felt as though his veins had turned to ice with the words spoken to him over the communicator. The words were still ringing in his head, spoken from the same emerald-eyed boy Kira had known since childhood, before the war. Before alliances.

An interlude of curses and shouts filtered in over the static of the communicator, of which he could only assume were the three other battle suits circling about around the pair, though their threats were only distant whispers. He glared into the communicator, eyes wide with a mixture of indignation, fear, and betrayal directed toward the pair of deep green eyes that stared back from the screen. But he could only picture the face that was hidden behind the red mask of the enemy. Kira hadn't expected to be threatened by his long lost friend in such a way, and it jarred his mind a bit. He scolded himself, shaking his head to rid his mind of such childish thoughts. He was a fool to think that things would be the same.

The captain of the Archangel had personally asked the young coordinator if he would be able to operate the Strike mobile suit in order to protect the spacecraft that was carrying his friends. Kira Yamato had never been particularly apt at denying anyone's request, his good hearted and shy nature not completely melted from his personality even through puberty.

Before he knew it, the young coordinator had donned the white and blue suit meant for flying, tightly fitted to keep him warm in the desolate landscape that was space, and had fired up his machine. After the destruction of Heliopolis, Kira was still plagued with dark thoughts. What if his parents had perished? What if… what if no one picked up the life boats? They were disturbing ideas that he quickly pushed from thought. He figured if these people were the only thing he had left, it was his responsibility to protect them.

A high pitched, feminine voice called out to him over the communicator, the voice of his friend Miriallia Haw shouting desperately over the receiver. "Kira! Kira! Respond!"

He pressed a particular switch that allowed limited vocal contact, every moment adding more distance and more static between the Archangel and the Strike. "Power's out. I'm in need of assistance… I repeat-" His blood ran cold when a flashing red light drew his attention, _Signal Lost_.

"Damn it, Athrun!" Kira shouted, recklessly thrusting his controls in different directions, attempting to jar any reserved power. It was rather unlike himself to curse out of turn, but this situation was overqualified for a few good vain words. Sweat had began to cling along his hairline, hands trembling from a mixture of rage and horror. "Let me GO!" So what if Athrun had threatened to kill him? Death was better than being captured by enemy forces. He knew that.

Within the whirling dance that was battle, Kira had been holding back, merely firing off warning shots, not wanting to seem suspicious. What he hadn't calculated, however, was the low fuel level of his machine. Now the brunette was trapped by the Aegis, closer to his long lost friend than he had been in years, only under much more grave of circumstances.

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**Author's Note: **So, yeah. It's a bit short, but bear with me. Sorry if it has been a bit glitchy. I changed the name last minute, after I had posted the story. x.x Review! 


	2. Chapter One: Temporary Solutions

**Incarcerated Friendship**

**Chapter One: Temporary Solutions**

**Disclaimer-** Gundam SEED does not belong to me or any of the people who have aided in my inspiration for this fan fiction.

**Author's Note: **Here we have a meager plot struggling to take hold. Enjoy!

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**Athrun's POV**

"It'll be better for us to capture it. We're going back…" I attempted to explain to Yzak, Dearka and Nicol, a task easier said then done. Especially with a particularly sharp tongued, white haired boy being your comrade. I wondered briefly if Yzak would shoot me down himself, taking the Stike with me. It would not be out of character.

I could feel my heart beating faster, sweat beginning to form soft droplets on my forehead. Clutching the controls tighter instinctively, the blood in my knuckles drained from the increased pressure. It had become uncharacteristically stuffy in the Aegis mobile suit, a fact that forced me to believe was due to its overuse in the past hour or so. It was a meager lie to tell myself, but it was better than coming to terms with the nervousness pooling in my throat.

I stared at the Strike though the Aegis' camera's, admiring every precise angle of its engineering. The naturals really had done an exceptional job in designing the machines, though their hard drives had needed serious work. Staring at the gundam, I deciphered the extreme irony of the situation. The Strike was a lithe and efficient killer, a piece of art all its own. It represented everything Kira was not.

I tried desperately to tell myself I was doing this for the team and not for Kira. The fact that my old friend was inside had no effect on my decision to capture the Strike versus destroying it. The gundam would be useful in a tight spot: perhaps Le Creuset could replace the empty spots left by Miguel and Rusty… There was a familiar twinge in my chest at the thought of my fallen friends, and I had to close my eyes to conceal my emotions.

I responded to the brunette's desperate demands, voice softer than I would have liked, "But you're a coordinator…" But I know that it no longer meant anything, or rather it would mean nothing to Kira.

Had our lives changed so much that life was now categorized into who was a coordinator and who was a natural? My eyes glazed over with frustration as I scolded myself for being so incredibly weak.

The strangled cries and curses did not help my failing demeanor.

**Regular POV**

Muttering a string of curses pierced only by exasperated sighs, Kira's mind might have stood still, but his fingers didn't. Their slim forms flew across the keyboard that had extended onto his lap, after a few moments, his violet eyes focused on the screen, intent on completing as much of the process as possible. The coordinator youth was reprogramming his gundam, changing the hard drive, reassessing every aspect of the Strike hardware. Looking up only once, the sight of a putrid green battleship made his stomach churn, but he was delighted to see thick black smoke burning whatever oxygen had managed to escape the damaged rooms of the war craft. Mu La Flaga had managed to do a great amount of damage, a fact that made his hopes rise slightly.

Athrun felt relief sweep over him like a comforting blanket to see the Gammau come into focus, though he was alarmed to see the distressed state it was in. He heard Yzak shout a slue of vain words, mostly directed at the legged ship and naturals. Across on the left wing the gate opened to leave a grey hole in the ship's side: their landing spot had been left undamaged. Vibrant lights came into view as the mobile suits entered the hangar, both pilots temporarily blinded as they adjusted from the darkness of space.

Attention fixed back onto the keyboard, Kira began putting up firewalls, some leading in no direction at all, while the actual key to controlling the Strike was locked up in a tiny compartment, protected by password only he would know. The distinct noise of scraping metal reached as the Aegis deposited the Strike on the floor of the cargo hold as Kira swiftly finished his readjustments. It was odd working in such a position, the gundam lying on its back, too little power to stand.

Athrun had released the Strike and moved off to land his mobile suit next to Yzak's Duel. Opening the hatch to his cockpit, Athrun rejoiced to be free of the stuffy confinement, helmet professionally tucked beneath his arm. The white haired coordinator had exited his own craft, though his eyes were burning with a mix of rage and skepticism directed towards Athrun. He had just pushed off his Duel mobile suit in Athrun's direction when Nicol came between them knowingly, adding a barrier between the two.

"I got a message from Le Creuset. The Captain wants to see us on the bridge."

Through the cameras on either side of Kira's mobile suit, the brunette boy could see the other three stolen machines, and a particular blue haired boy exit a red machine. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of Athrun, eyes widening slightly as the other pilots emerged. Seeing the mass of armed soldiers approach the Strike, Kira's teeth ground together with frustration. For now, he would remain where he was.

Even as a mass of armed soldiers approached the disabled Strike.

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**Author's Note**: One done. I know this is a really boring chapter, but the story will start picking up in the next one. Hopefully a new chapter will entice a few of you REVIEW! 


	3. Chapter Two: Tensions of Camaraderie

**Incarcerated Friendship**

**Chapter Two: Tensions of Camaraderie **

**Disclaimer-** I do not own Gundam SEED or any of its affiliates. I do own my pet rock. That's about it.

**Author's Note-** Another chapter done and up! I'm hoping to draw in some readers and reviews. C'mon! Nearly one hundred hits and only one review? Seesh!

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**With Athrun**

The cooled air of the Gammau was refreshing from the heavy smell of heated metal. Athrun took a deep breath of it, more to straighten his head out than to relish the crisp, clean smell. It was one of the only comforts he could find in returning to the ZAFT vessel at this time, being relieved of the stuffy cockpit. He chose to push the thought of the raging tyrant he knew as Yzak away, along with the inevitable conversation with Le Creuset he wished not to dwell on.

"At least now we get to see who's been piloting that." Nicol said, attempting to move the subject of the conversation away from Athrun's baffling actions. Athrun saw with a quick glance, Yzak's curious yet deadly expression is eyes also toward the Strike that had eluded them all. Athrun could only answer with 'mmhhmm' and wondered where Le Creuset was watching all this from.

Over the P.A. a stern voice (who Athrun could only assume was the Captain's) gave orders to pilot of the Strike: to step out of the cockpit with hands visibly placed behind his head – within a 45 second time limit. He was actually surprised why the soldiers hadn't already forcibly removed Kira from the mobile suit. That would be more ZAFT style. Nicol and Yzak moved toward the exit door where Dearka was standing, arms crossed against his chest (also staring at the Strike).

Underneath them the machines hummed and ship lurched with subtle movements. It was eerily quiet as the crew await movement from the Strike. And Athrun waited as well.

**With Kira**

Using his left hand to continue typing in the last few codes that would secure his mobile suit, Kira brought his free hand up to adjust the cameras, focusing on Athrun as well as the herd of ZAFT soldiers that had assembled around his immobile gundam. He paused at the sight of the blue haired boy, staring at the screen as the power began to fade, the flickering colors of the monitor signifying that whatever power had been tucked away in the machine was draining. The panel would go out soon, along with any power locks the Strike held. The ZAFT forces would get in, whether it would be by submission or foce.

His ears twitched slightly as a strange voice was projected throughout the hanger, a small scowl crossing his face. Kira was in a different state of mind. He wasn't the kind, positive brunette boy his friends on Orb remembered him as. This was war, and his life was on the line. However, Kira was surprised to hear the voice actually /request/ him to exit the cockpit, instead of a quick storming. Wouldn't that fit the horror stories of ZAFT soldiers better?

"Damn." He muttered to himself, knowing the situation was hopeless.

Pushing the keyboard up, he pressed a few buttons so that the Strike shut down, now safely protected. His hands reached for the lever that would open the hatch to the machine, clutching the knob with hesitation, fingers freezing in that position. With a strangled sigh, Kira pulled it backwards, a click and hiss of the machine signifying the opening of the cockpit. With his seat belts released, the lithe boy pulled his helmet from his head, and setting it safely in his seat before raising his hands, but refusing to put them on the back of his head.

He would retain his dignity.

The lack of gravity in space sent Kira drifting a foot or two from his mobile suit, eyes narrowed an alert, lips pressed in a strait line. His hands were extended upwards in surrender, professional white gloves still covering his slender fingers from view. Analyzing the situation, he found any chance of escape hopeless. He was not officially part of the Earth Forces, and therefore, had never gone through hand-to-hand combat training. It gave him no chance of taking down countless coordinators with weapons, as he had none. It seemed that time froze for a moment, though it was only due to the fact no one moved. _They're hesitant_. Kira's thoughts were surprised, _Are they _afraid _of me? Is it because… because I've killed?_

It was an odd thing to consider, a group of genetically engineered soldiers reluctant to take down, what they could only assume, was a natural pilot. The thought rang bells in his head, eyes shifting to the doorway in which Athrun had disappeared only recently. _Has he… has Athrun told anyone that I'm a coordinator?_ It would give him the upper hand, indeed, if the coordinators assumed this violet-eyed pilot was a natural. Unintelligent.

As a senior official barked the order to move in, Kira gasped as a group of soldiers flew up to meet him, swiftly pulling his arms behind his back a bit rougher than necessary. He was a slender boy, and not built for such harsh treatment. Hanging his head so the majority of his features were covered by chestnut hair, Kira Yamato felt the cold touch of metal as a strange appliance was applied to his hands, like handcuffs only larger and sturdier. They were built to withhold other coordinators, he observed.

After the restraints were double checked, he noticed the content sneer on many of the ZAFT faces, and turned away as anger brewed in the pit of his stomach. The two soldiers that had bound him grasped each arm above the elbow tightly, as if Kira would try to flee like a bird. Except this bird was grounded, his set of wings out of power. They shoved him forward, and had nearly reached the exit door when Kira turned around to see a swarm of technicians beginning to invade his mobile suit. Disheartened, his eyes softened, only to be smacked cruelly over the head by one of the guards.

"Oi! Keep moving, you Earth trash!"

Kira submitted, and hung his head again like before, avoiding eye contact. It was then he found the heavy restraints being lifted, followed by the sound of screeching metal as a heavy door closed behind him. This was ZAFT's version of a prison cell, apparently. It appeared to be a small room, primitive in nature with an extremely strong metal door blocking the only exit. Rubbing his wrists irritably, Kira's body began to tremble slightly. "Shit!" He shouted, kicking the wall as if he could break it down. He was stuck.

**With Athrun**

Athrun could hear the muted hiss of the hatch and the click of the guns even as Dearka pushed him through the door. He was frustrated, irritated in the fact that he would have to wait to see his long lost friend yet again. The door whispered closed behind Athrun and left him and the others floating silently down the corridor, leaving the hostility of the hangar behind. The silence was eerie and tense, Athrun keeping his eyes adverted away from the others, feeling Yzak's particularly hot gaze on his back.

The quartet floated through the deserted halls, most of the crew members working double shifts to clear the wreckage the Archangel had caused. The young coordinators moved into their locker room, where they were completely alone, no cameras for their commander to view their disputes. Athrun's hair stood on end as he reached for his own designated space, rolling to the side just in time to avoid one of Yzak's fists. It cracked against the metal, but the fuming young man seemed to barely notice, overcome with rage.

"Bastard!" He cried out, eyes aflame, grasping onto Athrun's collar and pushing him roughly into the row of metal lockers. "What the hell were you thinking? Bringing a natural on this ship!"

Athrun flinched, his breathing labored; adrenaline pumping through his system, ready to avoid any other assaults the raging coordinator might through. He looked to the others for aid, only to find a deadly look from Dearka who was standing against the wall, arms crossed as in concurrence with the threatening pilot. It was Nicole who stepped in, pressing a reassuring hand to each of the boy's shoulders, voice calm yet cold.

"Come on, guys." Nicol pleaded, eyes wide in a manner that made Athrun shrink away, reminded of Kira. "Le Creuset wanted to speak with us, right?" Yzak gritted his teeth, muttering a list of obscene profanity that only the blue-haired boy could hear.

"We're going to talk about this later, Athrun." Yzak barked, eyes still toiling with a tumultuous rage, and Nicol exhaled hopelessly. The quartet changed from their flight suits, donning the typical starched, crimson uniform of ZAFT. As they exited the locker room as Athrun nursed his bruised neck.

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**Author's Note:** Thanks to the one reviewer I've had so far. Seriously, guys. I'm going to turn into a review hog. I hope you enjoyed it, though it got a bit rushed at the end here. Happy Holidays!


	4. Chapter Three: Orders Comprehended

**Incarcerated Friendship**

**Chapter Three- Orders Comprehended**

**Disclaimer-** Gundam SEED and its characters to not belong to me. I wish they did, but they just don't. But this meager plot belongs to Kao and I.

**Author's Note-** Longest chapter yet! Enjoy, and Happy Holidays!

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The team had made it to the bridge, a place Athrun found positively blood chilling. The thought of the state of this now serene place during a battle… it was more stressful than he could imagine. As Le Creuset discussed the past few battles and future bombardment plans to come, he found his eyes wandering, the flickering lights of the security cameras catching his gaze like a bug to an ultraviolet lamp.

Athrun squinted from his position against the wall and could only assume who the moving shapes were. Blue for Kira, Olive for the ZAFT soldiers forcing him down the hallways. They all move so rapidly with quick, dexterous movements. They wasted no time questioning orders, acting as the finely trained ZAFT soldiers they were. Even as Kira was led off the boundaries of the camera's view, it held Athrun's gaze for moments afterward.

"Commander, they say the unit is locked." Athrun looked up, seeing a low ranking officer who looked absolutely terrified to be in such a classified area like the Gammau's bridge. He watched with interest, staring intently at his commander's face, as if he could gaze strait through the mask covering his features. Athrun had often wondered why Le Creuset wore such a trivial thing, hearing several rumors from other soldiers but never had heard any definite confirmation.

"Well then, tell them to unlock it."

"Uh… Yes. Yes sir!" Athrun could see a broad smirk filter onto Yzak's face in the dim light, obviously amused at the spastic corporal's reaction to the order.

In the background the conversation goes on, with blunt answers from Le Creuset, they understand the tone states that he is commander and they are not. Athrun scanned the monitors once more for an image of Kira and only found flashing white and black screens of hull damage and armament status. The mobile armor that had been reported to be the culprit of such an attack had done his job well. Another camera flashed on, the view of the ship's infirmary, and he was hit with both resentment and sorrow to see several cots with sheets pulled over dead bodies, frozen forever in their never ending sleep.

Athrun struggled to pull his eyes away, fists clutched into tight balls. What if he did decide to talk to Kira, would Kira be angry or disappointed or just apathetic? Slivers of memories come to him (two pairs of shoes, French windows and magnolia petals) and Athrun wondered if Kira would remember them with the same quiet melancholy and harmony that remind him of Wednesday afternoons and winter rain? **A/N: Yay! Kao and her amazing wording.**

It was their commander's voice, predominant over the others, that broke him from his trance. "The legged ship will be crippled without their mobile suit. We will continue formulating our next attack tomorrow. Dismissed."

"But, sir!" It was Yzak, speaking above the rest as usual. Athrun bit his tongue, holding his breath as the white haired coordinator spoke. Yzak wanted the pilot of the Strike dead, he wanted him to suffer for the deaths of Miguel and, inversely, that of Rusty. "The pilot of the Strike! You haven't mentioned him yet!"

All eyes were on Le Creuset now, speculating his reaction over the outburst. It was insubordination at least, and their commander was never one to be lenient towards those who stepped out of line. Athrun could swear he saw the makings of a smirk tease the corner of the older man's lips, but any sign of amusement had disappeared within the blink of an eye.

"Yzak Joule." His voice was stern, deadly, comprised with ill will and poison. "It is obvious the adrenaline of battle has not yet drained from you system." The white-clad man took an ominous step forward, bending down to look into the face of the exasperated boy. Even from his distance, Athrun could hear the surprised noise muttered from Yzak's throat, sounding as if he had just swallowed a golf ball. "I suggest you hold your tongue unless you want to join your little friend," Le Creuset spoke of Kira, "In the brig. Dismissed!" His volume had been held steady during the entire duration of their very one-sided conversation, but it took but a moment for all four young me to salute and turn to leave.

"Oh, and Athrun." The commander beckoned, watching as the blue haired boy turned to look over his shoulder, surprised. "I'd like to see you in my office. You have five minutes."

**With Kira**

His breathing was heavy, labored with irritation and betrayal. His eyes narrowed again, but this time his fist was launched at the doorway, hearing a satisfying crack. Whether the sickening sound was created by the metal or his own knuckles, he didn't know or care. Turning on his heals, he pushed himself on the small cot in the corner, laying on his back with his hands dug desperately in the tresses that clung to his scalp.

_Athrun_, His mind labored over so many events that had occurred, both recent and from the past. Pictures flashed through his troubled mind: their first meeting on the moon, and their last as children. It was the last time Kira knew the blue haired boy as a friend. He was now an enemy.

The thought made Kira sick, and he rolled over on his side, eyes scanning the room before they caught sight of a niche in the wall, a small circlet of glass indicating the camera that was placed up high. He stared at this pane of dark, obsidian glass, wondering vaguely who was on the other end. Adverting his gaze, the slim boy stood and paged over to the door, finding a small keypad by its guarded metal. Perhaps he'd be able to break the code, given time.

He sulked back to the bed, sitting down and cradling his head between his knees, attempting to regulate his breathing. His thoughts fell on the Archangel. "Miriallia, Kuzzy… Sai. Fllay…" He spoke a hushed prayer. How would the Archangel make it through these ZAFT invested region of space?

Kira looked up, eyes scanning the room, getting a better view of his surroundings. The stiff cot he was sitting on was located in the top right corner of the holding room, a small sink and toilet in the other corner. He noticed with silent amusement that there was not a mirror. Was it because ZAFT didn't like to breed conceited prisoners, or were they afraid of a captive using the broken glass as a weapon? What was more dangerous: a cocky natural or an armed one? His mind pondered the idea briefly, more curious than anything. The combination of the two had proven to be even more deadly. A sharp constricting feeling in his chest nearly caused Kira to double over, the memory of Athrun's slow admittance to his mother's death during the Bloody Valentine shocking him yet a gain. It had been because of the Earth Forces' overconfidence and possession of nuclear weapons did so many thousands of innocents die that faithless day. And it pained Kira to know his friend had to go through such a loss.

Things were beginning to piece together. Why his old friend had joined ZAFT in the first place, and the chestnut haired boy came to a new understanding on why he had accepted the request to pilot the Strike. Athrun was protecting his mother's memory, and Kira was protecting his friends. They motives were similar, though so extremely different.

Hearing some muttered voices from outside the door, Kira moved closer, lightly pressing his ear to the metal barrier so the sound waves were more clearly perceived.

"So, that EA kid is in there, right?" A pause, "Why haven't they shot him already?"

A second voice replied gruffly, "Because they can't get into his mobile suit. The bastard's got it locked up. I'd kill him myself, for what he did to Miguel-"

Kira broke away from the door, pushing away from the harsh words. He felt his breathing swiftly increasing in tempo, eyes wide with realization and hurt. It was strange, how he had never considered anyone hating him so immensely. It was a fact that sent a constricting feeling into the cavity over his heart, eyes reflecting the pain from their words, and the guilt he felt for himself. He had killed someone. And that someone was another person's friend. Another person's son or daughter… He fought off tears as he returned to the bed, sitting down with an elbow on each knee, head hanging low as the young coordinator struggled to compose himself.

**With Athrun**

Athrun fixed his collar, irritaded, before he turned to gaze at his reflection in the mirror for a little longer; a soldier staring back. Deep blue hair fell about his face, obscuring his left eye, bloodshot. He remembered how they initially looked after his first time space. _I guess I've never really gotten used to it…_

His eyes gazed the diminutive screen next to his door, operating as a lock as well as a practical place to read the time. _Two minutes…. Two minutes…_ Athrun repeated in his head, readjusting his uniform yet again for the meeting with his commander. He kept on repeating to himself that this was a simple meeting to discuss battle strategy, but he knew with his fine tuned soldier's intuition what this conversation was really about. _Kira…_ It was his last thought before he exited his quarters.

Le Creuset's office was spacious enough, serving its purpose well with a sturdy table affixed to the floor in the middle and three chairs surrounding it. It was organized and efficient, though Athrun could tell with his heightened senses that this room was hardly ever used, a thin sheet of dust collecting on the neat stacks of paper and writing utensils. The commander basically lived on the bridge.

Athrun saluted his commander with a flick of his wrist as he entered, Le Creuset replying with and equally obscure ZAFT salute from his seat at the desk. Athrun didn't expect to be asked to have a seat. He had never been asked to in all the times he'd visited the office and wondered if anyone has actually been seated in the chairs in front of the desk.

"The mechanics still have not managed to unlock the Strike." Le Creuset says, obviously finding the incompetence of the crew members annoyingly tedious. "Even if we have little use for it, it would be useful. I would like you to talk to your friend and find a solution to our problem." Athrun remembered speaking with Le Creuset beforehand, previous to the battle in which he had captured Kira in his Strike. A wave of both embarrassment and dread washed over his slender frame, partly ashamed of not being able to destroy the mobile suit and the other half displeased with the situation posed before him.

"But…" Athrun choked, immediately regretting his decision to speak. "I mean, Sir." Athrun cleared his throat and his gaze shifted across the room, avoiding the unchanging gaze of Le Creuset. Talk to Kira after all _this_?

The sound of scratching parchment caused Athrun's attention to snap back in place, watching as Le Creuset wrote something down on a fragment of paper. "I just want to get those technicians that are currently working of the Strike doing something less… superfluous. And since you two know each other…It might just be easier this way." Athrun blinked and Le Creuset continued giving him information on where Kira was being held with the access key to the door.

"Remember he is with the Earth Alliance now and you are sworn to ZAFT. Dismissed."

Athrun cursed at the manner in which Le Creuset said it as a suggestion when in fact it was an order. He has been in the military long enough to understand that nothing is ever said as an optional course of action.

Zero. Two. One. Four. Seven. Zero.

Athrun pressed the numbers into the keypad, fingers flying across the small keys as his eyes remained fixed to the bit of paper clutched between his fingers. With a resounding 'beep', Athrun rereads the numbers he had pressed into the pad, appearing on the screen. He gasped quietly, rereading the code that was to open the door, wondering if it was a joke. 02-14-70. February 14, year 70 C.E. The date of the Bloody Valentine. Painful memories swamped his senses, and the slim figure of his mother appeared as a hazy figure before his eyes. Within moments, she was gone.

Athrun pressed enter, anything to change his object of focus. Somewhere in the wall, mechanics turned and clicked and a high-pitched beep was emitted. The door glided sideways with a silent grinding and hiss of machines in the wall. He didn't need heightened senses to hear one word muttered from the other side.

"Athrun?"

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**Author's Note- **Whoot. Another chapter (also my longest yet) is finished! Review with good or bad comments, any feedback it much appreciated. Thanks to:

Patriot-of-USA

animelover120

furin-a


	5. Chapter Four: Bemused Reunion Part One

**Incarcerated Friendship**

**Chapter Four- **Bemused Reunion Part One

**Disclaimer-** If I were given the ownership of the anime in writing for the holidays, I'd be a happy girl. Up to this point, however, I do not own Gundam SEED or any of its affiliates. I can dream, can't I?

**Author's Note**- I'm not going to put a time frame on how often this story will be updated. The Holidays are a hectic time for many people, including my family. -.- The more reviews I get will help determine the length I intend to extend this story to, so REVIEW! This chapter may seem a bit confusing, but I tried out a few formats and this is the only sensible one I could find. Enjoy!

PS: Kao is God in roleplaying form. Just to remind everyone that this rendition of Athrun is nearly entirely her own.

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**The Thoughts of Athrun**

The soft voice of Kira seemed to get lost in the white space between them. In his head Athrun answered with a 'Kira' that drabbles from his mouth and lies gasping on the white tiles of room. His ears were filled with the hum of the ships engines and the crackle of the fluorescent lights. _It feels like summer…_ He mused.

Kira looked older, with the same taut skin stretched across his jaw and boyish awkwardness in his limbs that Athrun had; a strong nose and soft eyes that still had that childhood innocence that Athrun lost years ago. As far as he could remember, Kira hadn't changed.

Athrun wasn't sure what he was expecting. Seven or so years wouldn't have changed a person. Maybe because it felt like twenty, Athrun was expecting someone with the strong jaw set of Le Creuset and proportionate build of a full grown man. But somewhere with a twitch of his lips, Athrun was glad that Kira remained true to the memory – if not a little taller. For Athrun, the events were spinning in his head.

Fingers fiddled at the cuff of his uniform and Athrun turned his gaze to the floor where in his shoes his toes fidgeted uncomfortably within the synthetic fabric of his shoes. His mouth felt dry and his stomach rose to the point where he felt like he was about to throw up. This wasn't what it was meant to be like meeting Kira after so long. Athrun had always imagined they'd run into each other back at the place they had departed, magnolia blossoms dancing in the wind as they had before. Kira would be standing there, the small robotic bird chirping his melodic tune, and time would slow to a halt as their eyes met. Then they would talk about life and how grateful it had been to them. And how much they had accomplished and how much more they would together after so long.

Athrun watched Kira carefully with eyes that sought the intricately carved bridge that was there between them long ago (the one from his memories that stood arched elegantly over timeless gap and kept it's pristine beauty.) Yet they found nothing – maybe he was just looking in the wrong direction and somewhere in their reality such a flawless friendship still existed under cold reality of mobile suits and war. Or maybe it had gone and like all things, had aged beyond its limit. And maybe that Athrun and Kira were no longer the Athrun and Kira that shared the same sweater and homework answers.

**The Thoughts of Kira**

In his mind, time paused. It did not stop as he'd seen in countless romantic flicks Miriallia had forced him to sit through (though he always ended up crying at the end anyway), but merely went into a strange, detached slow-mo type motion. His heart pounded fervently in his chest, boyish eyes expanding to sizes he never knew possible. He hadn't been trained to hide his emotions, nor did Kira every find a real need for such a tactic. The boy was elated, nervous, and hopeful. It was a tumultuous mix of emotions that send his adrenaline level through the roof.

His tanned lips were parted slightly, both in awe and surprise. Something tugged cruelly at his heartstrings when his friend's gaze dropped uncomfortably, the other boy obviously finding the situation as equally hard to decipher. The blue hued tresses that clung to Athrun's head nearly startled Kira: he hadn't seen a coordinator in nearly seven years. Surely it was still the same color as it was during his youth, but after careful deliberation, he concluded that memories can fade, as his apparently did.

He found himself adverting his gaze as the ZAFT pilot did, the awkwardness of the events eating him from the inside. Guilt ransacked his nerve endings, causing him to clench his fists to keep from shaking, but he managed to hold gazes with the boy again. Though Athrun so desperately attempted to keep his emotions from his eyes, Kira could sense a glaze of betrayal in the fiery emerald eyes of his old comrade. Kira wanted desperately to smile, to embrace his long lost friend, but there was a cold aura about the other boy that made his blood chill.

This was not the same Athrun that saved a permanent place in countless cherished memories.

He looked older, the childish glitter in his eyes long since eroded, a strong stare of a soldier in its place. His features were sharper than Kira's own feminine lines, that of a young man versus the children they had been. His starched uniform was foreboding, sinister in Kira's eyes. This was the son of the Chairman. This was the ZAFT soldier.

**Normal POV**

Sharp flickers of the lights brought Athrun back from his trance and the final words of Le Creuset trailed across the back of his mind, knocking like an callous neighbor, reminding him. He belonged to ZAFT and Kira had chosen to support the Earth Alliance. These were indisputable facts. Athrun pulled his shoulders back to stand straight as a respected ZAFT soldier would and brought his gaze back to Kira, flickering only once to the wall.

"It is required that you give us details of releasing the security device placed upon the GAT-X105 Strike." Athrun stepped forward, lips forming the words carefully in a detached manner, trying to keep his voice even, but he could hear the cracks that appear at the edges and only hopes Kira doesn't. His lips pressed tight and his eyes were fixed on Kira, even though he fought to keep them doing so. Behind him the door slid shut once again and Athrun could hear somewhere in the wall to his left the lock clicking back in place.

When he spoke, Kira was taken aback by the icy nature of Athrun's voice, slender fingers clutching around the heavily starched sheets of the bed. It felt like worn sandpaper, though he pushed the thought from mind due to the desperate feeling tearing from the inside. His violet eyes reflected a sharp pain that could only be due to the emotional roller coaster ZAFT was forcing him to submit to, and Kira quickly looked away, ashamed.

"Athrun, I…" He started, words quivering as he still processed the heartless nature that the blue-haired boy's voice held. Tone hardening, Kira's voice gained composure, a cold eloquence adopted from his old friend, "No. The Strike stays locked."

Athrun's gaze is once again forced to the vapid, yet stable floor. The same cold tone that he had spoken with was reflected back at him and it rung in his head and it made him feel like they've just landed, with gravity sinking into his muscles again making them weigh down and ache. It makes him feel guilty and that feeling once again catches the back of his throat and it makes his peripheral vision go blank.

_What am I meant to do now?_ His inner thoughts struggled with themselves, battling for domination over the fickle teenage mind. _Leave and tell Le Creuset that the whole idea that friendship aids in spilling secrets was better left outside the military?_ Maybe Le Creuset had expected Athrun to not go about this so formally and maybe expected too much of a friendship that had long faded away.

Athrun wanted to scream at Kira and ask him why they stopped talking to each other and why they still weren't just _talking_… Why he wasn't in one of the escape pods that left Heliopolis but instead in an Earth military vessel. He wanted to ask Kira if had seen the bridge they had built together long ago on Copernicus and maybe, when this war was over, they could go back there to that spot between the cherry blossoms and the silver footpath, back to where the memories between them had stopped.

Out of the corner of his eye Athrun could see the camera that was hidden away and wondered if Le Creuset was watching this, if anyone was watching Athrun make a fool of himself in front of what was the apparent natural. Maybe it was simply one of those cameras that just recorded events for future reference and nobody was actually watching them and analyzing the conversation between the lines.

Athrun closed his eyes and started to repeat himself, knowing little else to do. "It is required that you give details of releasing the security…" He stoped, breath catching somewhere in his throat as his nails dug into the palms of his hand. "Kira…just…tell me."

It is almost a plea yet it still held the cold formality of ZAFT. Maybe it was because he still didn't know what would happen to Kira, or maybe it was because he still found himself frustrated because they weren't communicating as his mind tells them should be (with the knowing smile, causal appreciation and everyday affection). But a little voice in the back of his head informs him those times were over, that the EA uniform Kira was wearing might as well be a death sentence to their vigilantly constructed camaraderie.

There was no majestic bridge any more, no impregnable link of friendship that had lasted the years of warfare and separation. It had slowly eroded away with each flood: the Bloody Valentine, Kira's killing of Athrun's comrades, the attempted destruction of the Archangel and so many more. They had each swept their camaraderie, battered it and slowly drug away a stone or board that made up their bridge, their relationship slowly deteriorating. If there was a bridge left at all, it was one that families would turn away from, walk up the bank of the river to find a safer passage. Their connection was suffering and meager, something only the desperate would dare pass over.

Kira pushed his fingers farther into the sheets, bed springs desperately attempting to rebel the foreign objects that were adding pressure to their coiled power. His gaze faltered a bit, scanning the pilot up and down, analyzing his deep scarlet jacket, crimson cropped pants continued down his slender legs by an odd version of white culottes. A sad thought echoed through his mind, how Sai and Kuzzy would have burst out laughing at the ZAFT pilot uniform, making his heart ache for the members of the Archangel. Though the other boy's words weren't extremely hurtful in nature, his tone was like daggers, tearing apart Kira's carefully constructed heart bit by bit.

Perhaps it was too large.

His skeptical violet gaze met emerald eyes, prepared to once again deny any entrance to the Strike, but found his friend's cold words slowly erode into softer ones, though the ice in his voice remained. The desperation in Athrun's voice made his head swim, now clutching the bed to sturdy himself. "Athrun, I…" He repeated from before, holding his gaze for a few moments as he paused, emotions boiling beneath the surface.

"Athrun, I _can't_!" Kira shouted desperately, voice cracking as he jumped to his feet, upset with himself for bursting in such a manner. His voice became meek, helpless. "I just… I can't let you… You'll hurt them again!"

When Kira jumped, Athrun had taken a step back, conscious of the nearness of the metal door only by the soft brush of metal against the heal of his shoe. He was partially dazed by such a volatile reaction, mind still on back order as he processed the newfound information.

"We…" And even before his dialogue began, Athrun despised his choice of words, "… We won't stop the assault on the Archangel just because you won't give us a key." When Athrun said this it didn't come out how he wanted it to. He said it as a fact rather than as a side note.

"You won't stop attacking?" Kira replied, repeating the information as it weedled its way into his brunette-tressed head. It was more of a stated fact than a question, his eyes widening slightly for the realization, before his heavily lashed eyelids closed savagely on themselves. Kira's voice was not meek this time, but hushed, "But I'm not going to let the Strike be used against them…" He paused, taking a breath, tone becoming firm and his volume rising sharply, "They're not going to have to suffer because of my mistake!"

It was his mistake to get captured. To allow his mobile suit to fall into enemy hands. If he was to allow anyone to operate his machine against the Archangel, Kira would choose death over it. He would have allowed Athrun to shoot the Strike down.

Athrun became increasingly aware of the sore quality of his throat and his stomach continued to shift and churn, making his head whirl. Athrun crossed his arms tightly, looking away and watched Kira from the corner of his eye. "I mean it's not like… ZAFT isn't…" He was no longer making sense. "What do you think will happen to you…do you think the Archangel will come? Do you think they care about one coordinator?" It wasn't meant to sound hateful or malicious but Athrun could hear the disdain at the edges and it felt like his heart was about to stop from the horror of his tone.

Athrun's words cut deep, causing Kira to whirl around as if he was struck with an arrow, face taken aback and hurt. "The Archangel won't come for me." He stated coldly, eyes widening, a distinct glaze of tears collecting in his lashes. "Don't you understand? It was _my_ mistake to allow myself to get captured! If you use the Strike against them then… then..." Kira turned away, struggling to compose himself, but he found his body trembling. "Athrun, I have friends on that ship! I don't care whether they're coordinator or natural…"

Athrun never questioned himself why he had joined ZAFT, even if Kira had. But Kira's words had hit home. Even so, Athrun could never remember going through the whole mindset where he had joined the military for patriotism or hatred of the naturals, although somewhere along the lines he remembered wanting to stop the war. Maybe joining ZAFT was never something he had to think about, or had a choice to. When Athrun considered it, his father had never given him a decision, and it had always been silently implicit that he would join ZAFT. Athrun had never wanted _not_ to join ZAFT and took the path his father had made for him. Maybe that was because it seemed like the right choice, or maybe because it was just the easier one.

But with Kira in his presence, everything came into perspective, or maybe not. Athrun couldn't decide whether or not having his old friend in his life again made things more comprehensible, or less. On one side, Kira represented the color gray in an otherwise black and white world of ZAFT, he was the 'maybe'. He was the 'what if'. But at the same time, Kira proved to make things simpler. Instead of playing the scripted role of the refined soldier, Athrun found himself in the position of a person peering in through a window, staring down at the events as if it were a motion picture. He was free.

"Athrun... I'll protect them no matter what."

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**Author's Note:** Again, I apologize for the late update. I promised a few people it would be up sooner, but there's been a death in the family. That means I will be booked up later this week with wakes and funerals. But reviews always seem to increase the speed of the writing process, neh? 


	6. Chapter Five: Bemused Reunion Part Two

**Incarcerated Friendship**

**Chapter Five- Bemused Reunion Part Two**

**Disclaimer-** I don't own Gundam SEED. Actually, I don't really own anything at all.

**Author's Note- **Thanks for being so patient! I've been a bit overwhelmed the last few days. And Kao is a goddess of her own. She owns this rendition of Athrun. :D Happy New Year everyone!

* * *

**In the Last Chapter:**

"I mean it's not like… ZAFT isn't…" Athrun was no longer making sense. "What do you think will happen to you…do you think the Archangel will come? Do you think they care about one coordinator?"

"The Archangel won't come for me." Kira stated coldly, eyes widening, a distinct glaze of tears collecting in his lashes. "Don't you understand? It was _my_ mistake to allow myself to get captured! If you use the Strike against them then… then..." Kira turned away, struggling to compose himself, but he found his body trembling. "Athrun, I have friends on that ship! I don't care whether they're coordinator or natural…"

"Athrun... I'll protect them no matter what."

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**Our Story Continued: **

**The Thoughts of Athrun**

Kira hadn't changed. And this made Athrun feel that little bit awkward, as if he has done something wrong in conforming to the world he was presented with. Kira is the same other-centered person that fought desperately to keep the world around him content and moving toward a perfect ideal somewhere in his mind.

To an extent, Athrun believes, Kira's constant benevolent actions could be thought as selfish – thinking of the world as so incapable not to survive without your help. But it was not like Kira to think that way, to process events in such a questioning and skeptical manner that had been pounded into Athrun's mind as a ZAFT soldier.

But from the precious memories of school days on the moon, he knows that Kira couldn't hae changed so drastically as he had feared. His old friend had a habit of adapting to an extent, as long as his adaptation meant others were happy. And the innocent look in his eye told him that his assumptions were true, that the brunette boy in front of him couldn't possibly have become the stone cold soldier of the EA forces Athrun had been dreading seeing.

Athrun isn't sure if he has changed himself, but the saddened look in Kira's eyes told him otherwise. It would make sense, as a person finds it harder to notice the differences after extended periods of time that are so apparent to others.

Maybe somewhere between cherry blossoms on the moon and the grim haze of space battles something had clicked and Athrun had become whatever Kira saw, cold.

Athrun picked his eyes off the ground once again and they flickered from Kira to the wall and back to Kira. It hurt in a similar way to knowing he would never see Rusty again. Perhaps meeting Kira forced him to say goodbye to those carefully placed memories and hopes of peace that made his time on the moon so sweet.

Maybe this was the same as depression from the loss of something you never had – the one he's heard the other soldiers talking about when a promotion or transfer has come and gone. But Athrun didn't feel depressed; there was a sense of nostalgia in his muscles and maybe somewhere at the back of his mind is weary, but he felt no depression.

Kira was stubborn in what he says but he is true to himself and didn't take back something he is so sure about. Athrun could see the guilt in the rounded positioning of Kira's shoulders and the corner of his lips. It made his stomach churn for a second time because it was his fault that Kira was there, in the prison cell looking so… unbelievably distant.

It is the hint of tears that touch Kira's eyelashes and the uneven outline that showed he was quivering that made Athrun's eyebrows knit together and dry lips press together in uncertainty. Athrun could feel his breath catch once more and it feels like he's swallowed a golf ball.

**The Thoughts of Kira**

Kira envied his counterpart's ability to keep a level head, to tuck his emotions away in a small corner of his mind so no one saw his inner turmoil. He couldn't help but wear his emotions on his sleeves, and it was simply maddening. But even through the icy façade, he could sense that certain values remained from his childhood self: family (namely his father), and friendship. But did Athrun consider him a friend or enemy?

Their relationship was no longer black and white. As children they had been the best of friends, a fact neither of them every doubted. And only an hour or two ago, their relation as enemies was all too clear. Kira's mind raced with the realization that now the two coordinator boys were together in a room, their bond was gray, indecisive and unknown. Was Athrun to treat him as an old companion that was dear to him or a new enemy that was the epitome of everything he loathed?

He knew that in Athrun's eyes he was thinking of his fallen friends, a fact that made Kira overcome with remorse. He wanted so badly to take it all back, to never have taken control of the mobile suit… His breath caught in his throat, and Kira remembered how Miriallia, Tolle and Sai had been running through the streets of Heliopolis.

No, they wouldn't have found a life boat in time to make it out alive.

Kira was only faintly aware of his body trembling as the harsh memory of the gray mobile suits chasing his friends came to mind. If he hadn't been there, they would have died. Perhaps he was too hard on himself, always trying to make the world around him perfect, to make the people close to him happy. Because that made /him/ happy.

**Regular POV**

"I've missed you Kira." He said it with a tight lipped smile that turned the corners of his lips very slightly upwards. It had none of the ZAFT formality nor did it have the same abundant kindness that would spill from a smile between friends, but lies somewhere in between.

Maybe it was the realization that they are different yet the same or the acknowledgement that friendships don't stay the same over time or maybe Athrun liked how Kira's voice reminds him of Sunday afternoons and magnolia petals. And maybe he has just missed Kira.

It is the maybes again that bother Athrun.

They were the last four words that Kira had expected to hear, but they were the only words that drained from Athrun's lips. The boy gasped, sounding like he had just choked on an ice cube, hoarse with feeling and astonishment. He whirled around to face him, vaguely aware of the tears that had escaped the restraints of his eyelids and were sent spiraling through the lessened gravity of the ZAFT ship.

"Athrun,,," He began, the shock still setting in, his face aghast. His voice was timid as he attempted to regulate his slight trembling. "Athrun… I've missed you…" Even though his words were decisive, his expression suggested anything but. "But why? Why did you? After all I have done to you and your friends…" Remorse still lingered in his tone. It was true that Athrun had attacked Heliopolis and the Archangel, but for some reason, Kira didn't blame him. He didn't find Athrun at fault.

Kira looked like he was struck in the stomach (realizing the weight of his own words), not with a bullet or laser fire but by surprise (with himself and Athrun). His stomach was concaved, shoulders slouching and legs spread wide. Kira's eyes were wide and uncertain, hastily searching Athrun's own emerald hues for the true intention of his words. His lips were parted, breathing ragged as the words sunk in, but he remained motionless. A refined statue.

Athrun studied Kira's face, and realized that his outlook on the war was nearly a complete 180 from his own. There were some things the training manuals and the lectures of a training soldier couldn't prepare you for. It was because Athrun saw the same uncertainty painted roughly under veneer of strength that came from the stigma of friendship and loyalty, that he had when this war started.

"Kira…" Athrun started but let his voice fade (and the word rung sweet in his mouth). Maybe that was all he wanted to say and maybe that was all he needed to say. He distinctly recalled having wordless conversation with Kira.

"Someone will be in later. You'll probably have to answer some forms or questions. Something." His tone wasn't cold, maybe apathetic; but they weren't ready (or at least he wasn't) to talk as friends. "I'll come by tomorrow…try not to get too bored." It wasn't really a goodbye but it fit – he thought, and Athrun turned around, access key in hand.

Kira gasped in a manner that made his sudden outburst sound like he had just swallowed a pinecone, painful and taken aback at Athrun's desire to leave so soon. The thought of being left on the ZAFT ship alone caused Kira's senses to realize a growing hole in his stomach, representing the portion of his consciousness that held any partially selfish feelings. His blood ran cold with the thought that anyone but Athrun would join him in the small room, most likely with less then benevolent intentions.

He watched as Athrun turned on his heels, and unexpectedly Kira felt a surging sensation in his chest, compelling him to move forward. His hand moved forward as if to cover the other boy's before he had a chance to type in the exit code, but his motions stopped abruptly as Kira realized what he was doing. He came to the slow comprehension of what Athrun had meant by leaving at that particular time. He could feel the tension flying about in the air, a mind blowing static electricity, and Athrun was the only one with the power to end it before the situation turned sour.

But as Athrun dropped the hint that he intended on leaving, Kira had the impulse to stop him, to stop his friend from departing. He couldn't help the urge when he saw the blue tressed head turn; suddenly the scent of magnolia petals flooded his senses. He could feel the light brush of metal against his shoulder that was representative of the small mechanical bird that had been gifted to him, a symbol of the friendship they had formed. The memory of Athrun's promises, how the war would end, how they would see each other soon… So many years ago. For some reason, Kira couldn't help but think that if he would let Athrun go now, he wouldn't see him again. Not after Copernicus...

"Athrun, don't–" He began, hand trembling only inches from the other boy's. His fingers coiled on themselves, withdrawing as Kira let a strangled sigh escape the barrier of his teeth. He was struggling to make the whole situation make sense, but knew it was useless. His hands felt empty, useless, so Kira busied them by fiddling with the unfastened collar of his flight suit. "Sorry, but… Yeah. I'll see you later."

Without turning around Athrun could see the hesitant shadow that moved across his hand that is Kira. He wanted Kira to stop him and make him turn around and maybe then they could _talk_. Talk like they did as school boys, as best friends, with several hours passing on the topic of fruits or on how they would be the ones in that march across December Square to stop the war the only way they knew how. Peacefully.

But things change.

With each number and the '_nwp'_ that echoed poignantly across the walls, Athrun watched the shadow of Kira and watches as the memories begin to shift across his mind. The door shifted to the side after the high pitched beep and Athrun steeds through with only a tight-lipped smile over his shoulder to Kira before the door closed and his is once again left alone in the corridor. Athrun stood there for a few moments, placing a gloved hand on the cool metal of the door (where he imagined Kira's head would be). "Kira…"

Little did he know, the brunette boy's hand was also placed on the metal barrier between them, contemplating the irony of their situation. So close, yet father than they had ever been.

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**Author's Note:** Sweet. Another chapter up. Review! 


	7. Chapter Six: Estrogen and Apprehension

**Incarcerated Friendship**

**Chapter Six- Estrogen and Apprehension**

**Disclaimer-** I'm poor and overeducated. Don't sue me. I don't own Gundam SEED.

**Author's Note**- Wow. I apologize for the long break between updates. I've been a bit busy recently. Yet another family member passed away, so my time will be consumed for the next week or so. Please continue reviewing! You never know if an extra chapter might be flung your way in the process.

PS: Kao is Jesus. Athrun's actions in this fanfiction are mostly hers.

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_**Our Story Continued:**_

**After Athrun's Departure: Kira's Holding Cell**

Kira was not bound to any contracts, any military oaths or patriotic dues that a soldier of the ZAFT or Earth forces may be forced to pay. He was a civilian, and terribly doubted that any high ranking official of the natural army had ever heard the name Kira Yamato muttered in a sentence. He had been free, his cage never closed, able to spread his wings when desired. But in this cell, it was different. On the Archangel, it had been different.

War was a sudden and malevolent thing, like a dark serpent crouched beneath the careful cover of decomposing leaves, striking when the conditions were just right in order to take down its prey. The coiled snake that was combat had succeeded in dragging Heliopolis into the mess, achieved its goal in the utter destruction of the neutral colony. Warfare was not a poisonous serpent— striking swiftly and taking down its prey in one lethal assault— but a constrictor choosing to slowly squeeze the breath out of its victim until the internal organs lost all function. The winner at the end of the conflict was the one with the widest lungs, the thickest chest, and the strongest will to survive.

War was natural selection at its most proficient.

After Athrun had departed from the cell, Kira had stood, staring at his distorted reflection in the polished steel, fingers still pressed against its cold surface with the memory. It was several minutes before he managed to pull himself away from the portal, mentally scolding himself for being so foolish. As if their relationship would be the same.

Their friendship had been carefully protected for years after their stay on the moon, buried deep in the sand of the beach that made up their consciousness. But the massive typhoon that was war had come ripping through their relationship, dragging the protective sand and beating on their past memories like an elephant in a glass house. Kira knew this. But thoughts of his old friend still swam about in his mind.

The memory of Athrun's sideways smile made Kira's conscious cringe. Had it been a smirk out of caring? A dear promise? Or one of complete and utter pity? He cursed the ZAFT forces, yelled up at them (fists waving madly) for taking his friend away and replacing him with a cold, empty imitation. But the Athrun he remembered still existed, tucked away in a distant corner he could not see.

Kira knew Athrun did not answer only to himself anymore. There were ZAFT officials pulling the strings of his friend like a marionette (and he could see them, snickering to their sly selves), jerking Athrun about with all the grace he possessed as a child, only now he was like a toy. And Kira could only watch as clumsy crumpled rag doll in the corner, the commanders and captains of the ship holding the precious red thread that held his fate. And he was helpless to do anything.

Kira knew that it had to be near dusk though he had no indication in the windowless room. But the foot traffic outside his room had slowed significantly in the previous hours, reminding his body how fatigued it was. Despite the horrible texture of the sandpaper-like sheets, the brunette boy fell asleep.

**The Next Morning: Kira's Holding Cell**

He had awoken the sound of slight ticking sounds from outside, indicating someone was pressing in the identification code into his cell door. For a moment, his heart began to beat faster, recalling the words that Athrun had muttered, promising to return.

He sat up quickly, the flight suit bunching about his waist (he had removed his arms from the sleeves, upper half covered only by a tight white tank top). Kira's eyes were glazed with sleep, but the slender figure of the green-haired coordinator girl who brought his meals was silhouetted as the door slid open. His heart sank, but it was human company nonetheless. Wiping his eyes, Kira watched the ZAFT girl's movements with interest, making no sudden movements that would potentially spook her.

The girl walked forward, green tresses pulled into high pigtails, crimson ZAFT uniform as spotless as always. She swiftly walked forward, silver eyes focusing anywhere but the EA pilot before her, movements stiff yet fluid at the same time. With a slight noise of plastic hitting metal, the tray was placed on the small table adjacent to Kira's cot, obviously much closer to the half-awake boy than the girl would have liked. She turned on her heels, polished shoes gleaming in the artificial light, intent on exiting the room as soon as possible.

"Wait!"

She froze, not because she wished to obey to order, but her actions were generated from fright. Her head shifted over her gently sloping shoulder, a horrified look in her grey eyes, lips ajar with surprise and apprehension. For a brief moment, Kira noted that his meal-bringer looked in likeness to a statue, picturesque, but he almost immediately regretted his outburst. The girl would surely be terrified out of her mind.

He pushed the sheets off of his legs, swinging them over the edge of the bed to stand (rather unsteadily), a few feet away. "I'm sorry…" Kira began, his kind nature overwhelming his senses. It was a girl after all, not much younger than himself, nothing to be afraid of. The look in her eye reminded him of a stranded puppy in a thunderstorm, alone and petrified, someone he wanted to comfort. "I… I didn't want to startle you…" Kira extended a hand as if to place it on her shoulder, but the click of metal alerted his senses to something he would never have expected.

Upon seeing the motion exhibited from the flight suit clad pilot, the girl had spun around with coordinator speed, and Kira was staring down the barrel of a finely crafted gun.

((**A/N: **I considered ending it here, but I feel benevolent today…))

"Get away from me." Her warning was urgent, melodic voice unsteady as the green-haired girl's hand shook intensely. Silver eyes wide with a mix of fear and a sense of unmatchable power that came from holding a pistol, her stance widened in defense, arm extended to the full length.

Kira's violet eyes widened with astonishment, face taken aback (and slightly hurt). He slowly allowed his hands to rise, as more of an automatic response than an order from his brain to muscles. It took a few moments for him to find his proper voice, vocal chords still hoarse and dry from sleep. "Wait, I… I wasn't going to hurt you, I was only trying to—"

"Step away." Silver optics narrowing, she growled out a feral warning, hand still flickering slightly as she was unable to keep the gun steady. The girl brought her other hand up to aid in steadying the other, to no avail. "I mean it!"

Kira took an obedient step back, hands still held in their raised position. He was not about to let the girl leave, though. He would never let a person out of his sight knowing they had a dreadful memory of him, at least not without trying to correct it. "I'm sorry, really. I wasn't going to hurt you, I swear…" His eyes were earnest, pleading with the girl across the room from him.

"Stop it! You and your Natural lies. Why should I trust a piece of earth trash like you?" He could not help but notice the faint blush on her cheeks from seeing a young man is such a disheaveled state, suit open to expose his undershirt. Her words were harsh, but deliberate. It did not seem to Kira like these were the phrases of a young girl like herself, but ones she'd overheard from others. They were not her own.

Kira hung his head, feeling defeated, "I didn't expect you to trust me." Tense silence filled the small room for a few seconds, but he could see it in the girl's eyes that it felt like an eternity for her. He sighed, sitting down on the cot, hoping that his relaxed position would help ease his companion. Trying again, he said, "I'm sorry for startling you." More silence.

The girl turned abruptly, with the flexibility of a ruler, pigtails swinging around like whips. She had the gun hanging loosely in her right hand so that Kira (if he wished) could have easily pulled it from her grasp, but he defeated the urge. It was neither the time nor the place. Her fingers moved rigidly over the keypad, each number inputting with a small beep. The door clicked and swung open with a 'nwp', but Kira's lips had found their control.

"I'm Kira. What's your name?"

As the door began to slide shut, she said with an uneven voice, "Noelle."

**With Athrun**

The day rolled past in weary wave, with Kira at the back of his mind. He wasn't sure why he had told Kira he'd come visit him again, nor was he sure when he'd get time to slip into the prison cell (to go under a bombardment of emotions and confusion again). Of course he had thought about not going, it was hardly like Kira would have cared and held him to his words, maybe when they were younger it would have been so. But now, Kira knew Athrun was the enemy, and maybe expecting something was too much.

And Athrun couldn't help but think about what would happen to Kira. He wanted to talk to Le Creuset about it, but he held back. It wasn't like they were going to let Kira go free just like that. Would asking make him a traitor to his uniform? It wasn't like Athrun wanted to let Kira go (not after what he had done because Athrun belongs to ZAFT) but those humble memories created bias in his mind. And though such thoughts should have been easy to figure out and Athrun should have known where his loyalty lied, he didn't because he held onto sentiments and memories, because they were like the old Christmas cards and movie tickets he kept in the box under his bed. They formed a part of him, or at least a part of his life that once meant something – even if it was for a brief moment.

Athrun had passed this door numerous times already, but he put off opening it because he was unsure of the others and unsure about Kira. He reprogrammed his Aegis twice, lost at a game of chess against Nicol and helped navigate the Gammau (passing the door after and before each activity). He had eyed a particular green haired girl who had her gun in hand, appearing rather flustered as she floated past, but shrugged off the odd occurance. His hand hovered over the keypad and he wondered what he would say to Kira. Maybe he should have gone back to the bridge and watched the monitors again. Athrun punched in the access code and hesitated before his index finger moved down to the enter button. _It's like ripping off a bandaid,_ he told himself, _and then writhing in pain…._

But what he saw in the cell as the door slid open made his blood run cold.

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**Author's Note- **Haha! Cliffy! I'm so evil.

Again, sorry for the delay. I want to know what everyone thinks of Noelle. Like her? Hate her? Make her come back in a later chapter? READ AND REVIEW!


	8. Chapter Seven: Revulsion and Revenge

**Incarcerated Friendship**

**Chapter Seven- Revulsion and Revenge**

**Disclaimer-** I don't own Gundam SEED. Sadly. Very sadly. x.x

**Author's Note**- Hehe. Well, it's been a few weeks since I have updated my precious little fan fic for reasons that I will disclose at the bottom of this page. xDD It's good to be back, however. Thank you for all of the thoughtful reviews!

PS: This rendition of Athrun is Kao's. Not mine.

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_**Our Story Continued:**_

**Kira's Cell**

Kira had done nothing that day. He lost all track of the passing time, only able to give a rough guess as to when meals were to arrive, as they did on schedule though it was not Noelle who delivered them. It was another coordinator girl with soft emerald eyes that reminded him so much of springtime of Heliopolis. She seemed colder than Noelle and even more collected than his blue-haired friend.

Athrun had neglected to return for hours.

Every time someone outside made the slightest movement or sound outside his door (muffled voices or a strangled cough) caused Kira to sit up in his bed, only to feel the cold chill of disappointment when the sliding steel door did not yield.

By pure instinct and a rough estimation, Kira had laid sprawled out on his back, the tray that held a multitude of colored mush remaining untouched next to the bed. He had done a whole lot of nothing, no eating (he had not the stomach to retain any provisions), no sleeping (his mind was plagued by sinister imaginings), and no pacing (Kira's legs turned to jelly every time they attempted to hold weight).

Kira's mind still continued to ponder over the events passed, questioning everything. He had just began to contemplate a possible escape route when there was a telltale 'bleep' from the mechanical door. He remained still, motionless, not wanting to startle the new green eyed girl who had been his only company for hours. It was nearly meal time, anyway.

The sound of clicking metal alerted his senses to something else, a variation in the mood of the room. What had been an aura of apathy swiftly turned into that of pure hatred, and he could feel the deadly vibrations radiating off every solid objects in sight. He sat up abruptly, focusing on the new figure standing in his doorway.

A white haired boy came in to focus, the metal body of a gun staring menacingly back at him.

Kira was unable to process the situation, freezing like a deer in the headlights even as the other person began to move, swift and deadly, towards him. He ran forward, leaping across the gap between them in one graceful bound, not allowing Kira enough time to pull his hands up to brace himself.

There was a sickening slicing noise as a patter of blood, but he was barely aware of the crimson liquid oozing from his lip. By opening his eyes, Kira was alarmed to see the barrel of the gun hovering only inches from his face, stained with his own blood. The coordinator had hit him with it, he could piece together that much. It was only then that the pain registered with his nerves.

"You thought you could hide away in this cell forever, didn't you?!"

There was the sickening, 'thud' sound only created when a fist contacted a human rib cage, the wind quickly escaping through Kira's bloodied lips as he was hit.

And then the rampage started. Yzak began (aiming for the abdomen with his free fist), a mixture of obscenities and orders, anger blistering from every syllable. His head was still reeling from the blow, but Kira was able to pull a few words from the jumble, "Bastard… Mobile Suit… Legged Ship…. Miguel… Rusty…"

After a few moments, his brain scrambling for consciousness, Kira managed to view his surroundings clearly: the door had locked behind his attacker (no way of escape), the tray of food had been tipped over and spilled across the tiled floor, and now the white haired male had pressed Kira's slim form back into the wall, his lower half balancing dangerously on the corner of the cot. There was a strong hand clamped around his throat, and Kira wondered briefly if this was the end.

"What's the access code to the Strike?!" He screamed, brandishing his loaded gun. When there was no answer, he ordered wildly, "Tell me!!"

Kira spit a mouthful of blood out that had managed to seep past his lips, eyes catching the intruder's, "I can't…" There was another smack, and a hot, searing pain broke out over his forehead stretching from above his left eye to mid-forehead. He whimpered, unable to free himself from the enraged coordinator, never trained in physical combat.

"Tell me, you piece of Natural Shit!"

Kira groaned as another blow from the metal body of the gun tore at his right temple, a barely audible whisper escaping his parched throat. "Please… I can't…."

"Do you know who I am, bastard?" A pale hand clasped around Kira's bare throat, squeezing dangerously so breathing became a laboring task, hazy black spots dotting his failing vision. "Do you?! Answer me, damn it!"

But the attacker did not pause, did not lighten the pressure against Kira's tan neck, appearing as delicate as a bird's in such a situation. "I'm Yzak Joule! I wouldn't forget the name if I were you."

The slight 'twp' of the door was lost amongst the groans as a particular blue-haired boy appeared from behind the door.

Athrun tried to say something but his voice was lost once again in the space between him and Kira. He moved forward to grab onto anything that was Yzak (his arms felt heavy and his peripheral vision slipped into darkness). Athrun managed to seize Yzak's collar and Athrun attempted to pull him back while his other hand searched for the gun at his side but was thrown off when Yzak struck him with the base of his gun.

Finding his balance again, he finally felt the pain that shifted across his cheek. Yzak was good with ground combat and kept the gun aimed at Kira even if hand was no longer pressed against Kira's neck.

It was Athrun that spoke first.

"What the hell are you doing?"

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**Author's Note**: Thanks everyone so much for continuing to read my fan fic! Anyway. Curious about my absense? Well, it seems that I had a rather unfortunate incident that involved dislocating my right kneecap. It was basically hanging off the side of my leg. x.x So after a nice stay in the ER, I managed to get back into the school vogue, along with a buttload of makeup work. And it didn't help that this week was our school's Musical. Haha.

Thanks for reading! Review!


	9. Chapter Eight: Shattered Marionette

**Incarcerated Friendship**

**Chapter Eight- Shattered Marionette**

**Disclaimer-** I don't own Gundam SEED. Tell me if the rights ever go up for sale.

**Author's Note**- Warning: Cursing ahead! I don't think it is enough to bump it up to Mature yet. You've been warned!

This rendition of Athrun is Kao's. Most likely anything that pertains to Athrun (his actions, speech, etc) was written by her. 'Cause she is that freakin' sweet.

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_**Our Story Continued:**_

**Kira's Cell**

**Kira POV**

It's funny how things change perspective so drastically when someone is in pain. Suddenly life slows to a snail's crawl and any awareness of the world around you goes dull, numb. Only the pain is there. It is the one time Kira ever considered what it would be like to slip into darkness, how lovely it may prove to be. Even through the foggy glaze that brushed itself over his eyes, Kira's senses alerted him to the fact someone else had entered the room. A flash of blue alarmed him, his dazed mind requiring a few moments to connect Athrun with hope, hope for an end to the throbbing feeling flooding his head.

But as his sinuses drained themselves (most likely in the form of a bloody nose), the extra adrenaline pumping into his system made his limps more nimble, senses sharpened. His eyes managed to focus on the scene in front of him, vaguely aware of the released pressure on his throat, though the malicious stare of molten steel continued to glare at him in the form of a gun. He was alarmed by this, the pain and the confusion forcing him into the mental state of a child, and an injured one at that (innocent violet eyes glazed). His lips part to speak, but found them cracked and covered with drying blood, his tongue feeling like sandpaper against the tender flesh of his gums. _Athrun…_ Kira was frustrated, and attempted to use his vocal cords again, but managed only a soft groan. He was helpless.

**Regular POV**

"I said, what the hell are you doing?!" Athrun choked out the words again.

"What you couldn't do!" Yzak spat back over his shoulder, voice ringing with malice and disdain, hand clasped dangerously tight around the "natural's" neck. Athrun wondered if Le Creuset had put him up to this or was this just an excuse for personal payback.

"What you're doing is illegal..." Athrun knew there must be some legal protection for prisoners, against such abuse, at least to some extent – PLANT wasn't so unkind, were they?

"Why do you want to protect him so much after what he has done?"

"I…Yzak just… shit… just leave him alone. We don't need the Strike and it's not like he's going to have a life once we get back to PLANT." For a brief moment Athrun thought his words may have had some effect on Yzak from the look that flickered across his eyes. Wincing, Athrun expected more blows to follow directed toward himself, but it was then Yzak turned around to face Kira once again.

The sickening sound of cold metal against soft flesh filled the room, and Athrun thought it had started up again as the steel body of the gun came up from underneath up against Kira's jaw, snapping the brunette's eyes up to the ceiling, too overcome with shock to utter a meek whimper. Athrun stepped forward to stop it but Yzak moved away with the same malicious look that he had seen before his presence in the room was known.

"I hope Le Creuset knows you've taken sides with these fucked up naturals." Yzak spat to Athrun, pushing past him (shoulder into shoulder) Athrun held his tongue back and followed Yzak out, pausing at the doorway before leaving the room.

**Kira's POV**

He found those few limbs that were uninjured to be heavy, but Kira forced them to move, begging his confused ligaments and joints to function. Kira tested his motion with his toes, wiggling them beneath the cover of his boots, attempting to get his motions up to stand, with no success.

Pain erupted from his chin, barely aware that he had been hit until the discomfort came in a tumultuous wave.

His slender frame was thrown back against the plaster of the wall, head shot up towards the ceiling, still reeling from the force of the blow. He felt tears forming in his eyes, but was too tired to allow them to flow down his cheeks. After a few moments, Kira's body slid down the surface, leaving a trail of blood, before collapsing on the starched white sheets. He was barely able to see the exiting form of Athrun before darkness took him.

And he went willingly.

**Ten Minutes Later**

Athrun didn't report the incident because it was Yzak and Yzak was hot headed and blunt in the way he does things. He suspected that they white haired coordinator couldn't help the constant rage that boiled just beneath the surface of his pale skin, it was a neglected side effect of war and loss.

At the infirmary Athrun took the cold pack the medical assistant gave him, accompanied by a knowing smile. It was not the first time a member of their squad had entered with bruises undoubtedly linked with the easy-to-anger teammate. He placed it against his cheek with an inward sigh. The bruise developing beneath his skin would be gone within a day or two, a blessing provided by a coordinator's increased immune system. But Kira's wounds were much more severe. He picked up a few more medical supplies from the nurse, who waved him out hurriedly as a few wounded soldiers came filing in. Had there been another battle? Athrun hadn't noticed.

Athrun wished he didn't feel like Kira was his problem, and yet he also wished that Kira was not a _problem_ in the first place. Regret filled his senses, and guilt soon followed as he entered the previously abandoned room, the sight of the crumpled Kira making his stomach churn uncomfortably.

Athrun laid the first aid supplies on a clear space of the bed behind Kira and took one of the spare dressings and soaked it with water from the tap in the corner. Athrun took the wet dressing and started cleaning off the drying blood on Kira's face before he could dress the wounds and he is silently glad Kira was out of it, not to make the situation more uncomfortable than it already was.

**In Kira's Head**

Kira felt as if he was drifting through realities, materializing in random scenes he barely recognized, and others that he identified all to well. They were painful memories, the ones that he had worked so hard in setting away from the rest of his functioning mind, meticulously constructing his walls of containment to keep their poisoned existence away from his consciousness. They were the reminiscence of events of old, ones that Kira may have attempted to distance himself with, but lingered over his shoulder like a looming storm cloud. And here, in this dark, obscured version of reality, everything had a distinct blurred cast to it, faded in perfection like an irreplaceable painting placed in the sun.

In this world, Kira was crumpled on the ground, his innocence that of a heart broken child, a light overhead directed at his slender frame. Everything was warped, obscured, amplified. And these horrible recollections played out in front of him, like a car accident in the way it was so horrible you couldn't look away. Kira was reliving his worst memories. He remembered as a child (he couldn't have been more than three, though his coordinator mind captured every moment), his great aunt's hysterical wails to discover that her nephew was a coordinator, "space scum", "mutated monsters".

The scene suddenly flipped, to a group of young boys with vibrant tresses that could only belong to coordinators, in the whimsical setting he recognized as Copernicus. They had been making fun of Kira's parents, telling him that their fathers would soon kill all the naturals. And those who loved them (from his crumpled state in this unorthodox realm, Kira felt tears filtering to his eyes). These events passed like a slide show, each more painful then the next, dozens of them until the air stilled.

The edges of his vision began to turn slightly lighter, and Kira felt like he was teetering on the edge of a knife, and about to fall back to reality (and became vaguely aware of a cold, wet something brushing against his face) but not before the cruel memories shifted yet again. The scene before him went black for a few moments, until a sharp flicker of bright lights and blaring warning signals signified that Kira was back in the cockpit of the Strike, in time to hear the six little words that made his blood run cold. "I'll be forced to shoot you."

Kira shot up where he was in the blood stained cot, eyes flying open wildly as he struggled for air like a fish drowning in air. His breathing was erratic, uncontrolled as his chest labored, hands shaking from where they clutched the sheets in front of him. He didn't realize another presence in the room, to caught up in the nightmare to have any perception of what was reality and what was imagination. Kira hugged his knees in a relaxed way, not so much as a sign of weakness, but rather stayed in the position because it was comfortable. Between heavy gasps, Kira looked to his right, alarmed to see another person staring back at him. "A… Athrun?" His voice was meek, confused, vocal chords seeming to be made of dry rubber bands. What this real? Or just another memory?

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**Author's Note- **Schoolwork has made me its own personal slave recently. Between physical therapy and Track practice, I have found little time for my creative indulgences. T.T

I apologize greatly! If you don't already hate me... -meek voice- Review, pweeeeeze?


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